


New beginnings

by Drago



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cheating, Dirty Talk, I had to put something in the "Work title" space, Infidelity, M/M, PWP, Rimming, a bit rough, after His Last Vow, first real fic in a long time, i guess, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 21:44:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drago/pseuds/Drago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>English is not my first language, I own nothing, and I don't have a beta, sorry. PWP.</p><p>"- You’re not gay.<br/>- No. Not quite. I’m not going to lie, I vaguely entertained that thought before The Fall, you were the only person I was really comfortable with, and I thought that yeah, I could do that. But you weren’t so welcoming then."</p>
            </blockquote>





	New beginnings

There were many things he wanted to say.  
 _I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you._  
 _Every day spent without you hurt._  
 _It isn’t the same anymore._  
 _I like Mary. I don’t want to be alone again._  
 _Being alone hurts. Being without you physically hurts._  
 _I work better with you. With you, I am a better person._  
 _I am lost without you._  
 _I want you. But I also need you._  
He definitely didn’t mean to say that _Sherlock is a girl’s name._ Sherlock Holmes, fearless, courageous detective got scared. Three, little words scared him more than any other enemy he ever faced. He was embarrassingly ordinary, just like other people, when it came to these three words. Maybe it was for the best. Why would he burden John if it was the last time they saw each other, why make him feel sorry.

_I love you, John._

It was weird. Seeing John sit in his chair, sipping tea prepared by Mrs. Hudson. He tried to delete domestic things he associated with a good doctor, didn’t quite manage, but he no longer expected to experience it. John didn’t belong to him whether he actually was in London or not.  
\- So Moriarty is back?  
\- Not enough data yet, not likely, though.  
\- Copycat then?  
\- Probably someone is using his “fame” to scare us. It’s easier this way, no need to do anything spectacular to get attention. We shall see soon enough, I assume.  
\- You didn’t ask me to come with you – John said unexpectedly.  
\- Why would I? You’ve got life here, with Mary, you don’t need me.  
\- Now wait a minute, that’s not true. Just because I have Mary, it does not mean there is no place for you. You keep assuming that.  
\- You treat me differently, though.  
\- You hurt me. It’s difficult to just forget. I may have forgiven you, but Sherlock… I can’t just delete all this hurt and pain. It’s going to take some time. But I need you.  
Sherlock picked up his violin and started to tune it. He couldn’t look at John, so he turned towards the window. The weather was nice outside. How dreadful.  
\- You don’t need me the way I need you. It’s almost as if I can’t be brilliant without you. My deductions are not as fast, my mind not as sharp. I drive myself crazy thinking that someone may hurt you when I’m not around. I can barely breathe when you smile at me, and I have to stop myself from screaming when you smile at someone else, at Mary. You’re the only person I’ve ever truly loved. I want to keep you in this flat, in my bed. I want to have you in every way possible, you would look marvelous between Egyptian cotton sheets. But I’m not going to have you even once.  
\- Jesus, Sherlock, I didn’t know…  
\- I said that out loud?  
\- Yes.  
\- Delete it. It’s nothing but nonsense, sentimental nonsense.  
Sherlock looked lost for a second, but then he schooled his face into one of indifference.  
\- No.  
\- What do you mean “no”?  
\- No. I’m not going to ignore it.  
\- I’m asking you to.  
\- And I’m saying no. You came back different. More… humane. It’s good.  
\- Is it? It means there is an easy way to hurt a person.  
\- Can we not think in terms of crime and criminals, just once?  
\- I wasn’t talking about criminals.  
\- Oh… - John frowned a little, and Sherlock wanted to… no. - Alright, let’s make a deal.  
\- What sort of deal?  
\- It’s simple. I want you to be happy. If you had me, once, would you be happy?  
\- You’re not gay.  
\- No. Not quite. I’m not going to lie, I vaguely entertained that thought before The Fall, you were the only person I was really comfortable with, and I thought that yeah, I could do that. But you weren’t so welcoming then.  
\- And later you have met Mary.  
\- I guess. Is sleeping with me going to make you feel better?  
There was no way Sherlock would be satisfied with just one time. It was, he hated to admit, love not some sort of sexual attraction that would just disappear after they had sex. But if he agreed then he would be able to put the memory in his mind palace, create a safe place for it. He would be able to revisit it as many times as he wanted. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something.  
\- What about Mary?  
\- She doesn’t have to know. There are many things, worse things, she’s done.  
\- Okay. If you’re sure that you are not going to regret it.  
\- I’ve done many things in my life, and somehow I doubt this is going to be the one I end up regretting. I do love you. You’re my best friend. 

The first thing Sherlock did after entering bedroom was to strip off sheets.  
\- You promised me Egyptian cotton.  
\- You’ll get it, in a second.  
\- What have you done to your sheets?  
\- Nothing. Mrs. Hudson washed them recently, but Janine slept in them. I don’t want you to…  
It was touchingly thoughtful, for Sherlock. New sheets were dark blue, how fitting.  
While they undressed John tried to ignore the other man. Sherlock kept sneaking glances to make sure it wasn’t a drug induced fantasy.  
John’s skin definitely felt real when Sherlock pressed fingertips to his throat, collarbone, chest. He hesitated for a second before rubbing small nipples until they hardened.  
\- You don’t have to do anything – he murmured before pressing his lips to John’s.  
The older man didn’t taste of anything specific. There was only a general impression of… of him.  
\- Don’t be silly – John broke a kiss. – I want to touch you. You’re not alone in this.  
Kisses turned hungry, no longer hesitant Sherlock licked into moist warmth. His hands traveled around his partner’s body cataloguing scars, memorizing softness of his skin, learning patterns.  
Detective’s cock was already hard, just from looking, and it twitched when his hands found firm buttocks. John moaned, when Sherlock almost unconsciously clenched hands and his fingers dipped a bit between the cheeks. Soon enough he was going to be inside.  
\- Lay down.  
John obeyed beautifully, such a good soldier boy. On his back, with feet planted on the bed, legs slightly spread, he really looked…  
\- Marvelous. I knew you would.  
John should be nervous, but his body was beautifully pliant when Sherlock crawled between his legs.  
\- I am going to fuck you, John Watson – detective’s voice was dark and raspy – and you’re going to love every second you spend impaled on me. You’ll even like the pain.  
John was silent, but there was a hint of blush on his cheeks, and his hips bucked. Their cocks touched, wonderful slide of skin on skin making him shiver.  
Sherlock kissed him one more time before sliding down his body. John’s dick wasn’t very long, but it was thick and nicely filled detective’s mouth. He gave it a long suck enjoying muffled curses coming from above.  
\- Pass me lube, it’s in the cabinet.  
Sherlock was too busy stroking John’s perineum. He didn’t think twice before moving to lick the puckered opening, the resulting gasp making him smile. He stiffened his tongue and pressed inside, John’s thighs started to visibly shake.  
Lube was pushed into his hand.  
\- You are a filthy boy, aren’t you? – He taunted. – Asking to be fucked. Let me deliver, then.  
He didn’t wait for lube to warm up and started with two fingers perfectly aware it was too much. He wanted John to memorise it.  
Two fingers soon became three, but John didn’t complain, and he was still rock hard, so Sherlock rewarded him by sliding over the small bump again and again, until his shaft was wet with pre-come. He pressed last time and slid out to coat himself in lube.  
He never thought about it, until John came body was transport, but he knew that objectively his cock was longer and thicker than average, perfect to pleasure his partner.  
\- Go slowly at first.  
\- Obviously, I don’t want to hurt you.  
It wasn’t something they could avoid entirely, John closed eyes and his eyebrows furrowed in pain when head of Sherlock’s cock entered the first ring of muscles. It was a slow slide and burn.  
Sherlock panted heavily, not really prepared for the tight heat that engulfed him. He briefly thought about Mycroft, to keep his orgasm at bay. It helped, and by then John’s face relaxed.  
His hips moved slowly at first, savouring the act. He took care of grazing his partner’s prostate every time, but he held down John’s hands when doctor tried to touch his own dick.  
He increased pace steadily until the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and two men moaning.  
Sherlock was getting close, the pressure building in his stomach. He fisted John’s cock, his grip a bit too strong, just the way the doctor liked it. Sherlock almost shouted when John’s hole clamped down on him while the man came. He couldn’t, didn’t want to, stop then and pounded into relaxed body chasing his own release. When it came he pressed his lips to John’s to prevent stupidity from escaping. He stayed inside the doctor until he softened. John winced when he slid out.  
\- You didn’t use a condom.  
\- Hmm, no. I’m clean, don’t argue, I used clean needles and I’ve been tested. How does it feel?  
\- Warm. Sticky?  
Sherlock’s eyes were glued to the reddened rim. Slowly, he put a finger in to feel the wetness inside. When he pulled out a bit of come leaked, and he rubbed it into the used hole, enjoying the way it quivered.  
\- How long ‘til you can go again? – John’s voice was quiet but not ashamed.  
\- Depends on the stimulus. Half an hour tops, in this case. 

They slept for an hour after the second time, and when Sherlock woke up he could hear the shower running. He joined in, not surprised when John put hands on a slippery wall for support and pushed out hips in obvious invitation, which he accepted. John’s hole swallowed him greedily, already well stretched from earlier. He touched the place where their bodies met, red and swollen rim looked almost painful, but John’s moans suggested otherwise.  
This time Sherlock didn’t stop himself from fucking, screwing in as far as he could. It was their last time, and he wanted Mary to wonder why her husband couldn’t sit comfortably in their little, cozy flat.

*******

Footsteps on the stairway, but the doorbell didn’t ring. Someone was taking only one step at time, clearly unsure, paused after reaching the top and only then knocked. Not a client or Lestrade then, definitely not Mycroft, it couldn’t be John, why would he even bother with knocking?  
\- Come in.  
John. Absurd, why knock?  
\- Hello, Sherlock.  
He was nervous, his eyes darted towards the chair, but he decided against sitting in it. Oh, unsure because it wasn’t his flat anymore. Something else too, though.  
\- Sit down, for God’s sake. I only keep this chair for you.  
\- Right. It took you less than a month of my absence to remove it.  
He sat down despite the complaint.  
\- I didn’t want Janine to use it.  
\- That’s…  
\- Never mind. Something is wrong.  
\- Deduce me.  
\- What?  
\- Do your worst.  
\- Alright – Sherlock almost laughed. – Your shirt is slightly creased, clearly put on in a hurry. You didn’t even bother with flattening your hair. You made a quick decision to leave, but you’ve been thinking about the whole thing for some time.  
\- I left Mary.  
\- Yes. Why? No, don’t answer. I know why. You thought that forgetting about her past is going to be easy since you didn’t read the file and you knowledge was icomplete. You killed people, and you don’t dwell on it. However, you expected different from Mary, so it bothers you and you can’t stop thinking about it. She is no longer a wife in your eyes but a killer, possibly murderer. You feel responsible for the child, and you’re going to support her, but not as a husband.  
\- Of course you know. You lied to protect me, she did so only to protect herself. When I get bored I chase criminals with you. What is she going to do?  
\- Good question. But John, I killed too.  
\- Yes. When you absolutely had to. When you, or someone close to you, were in danger. I can trust you. You were ready to lose everything for me, after all.  
John leaned in to touch Sherlock’s hand, who in turn curled his fingers around doctor’s wrist.  
\- You moved out, then.  
\- Yes, and I left my things downstairs.  
\- Why?  
\- Because I moved out…  
\- No, why downstairs – Sherlock interrupted.  
\- Well. There is always a possibility that you no longer want me here?  
\- Don’t be stupid. I would be lost without my… Without you.

 

\- But if you ever go back to drugs I swear, I’m going to strangle you in your sleep.


End file.
